


Space Cowboys vs Wizard

by Carry_On_Destiel



Category: Firefly, The Dresden Files - Jim Butcher
Genre: Crack, Crossover, I'm Sorry, Random Encounters
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-04-17
Updated: 2017-04-17
Packaged: 2018-10-20 00:21:11
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,380
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10651125
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Carry_On_Destiel/pseuds/Carry_On_Destiel
Summary: What would happen if the crew of the Serenity made an emergency pit stop in Chicago and Harry Dresden decided to investigate?





	1. Chapter 1

_**BANG**  
  
_ The entire ship lurched violently as their starboard engine burst into flames. Captain Malcolm Reynolds peeled himself away from the wall and hurried down the narrow passage of his beloved Serenity; bellowing as he ran.  
  
"Kaylee! Y'might've noticed we've got a minor issue here!"  
  
The returned shout was muffled, as if his mechanic had a tool wedged in her teeth, "Well y'don't gorram say, Cap'n!" there was a clunk and a hiss, followed by a litany of cursing.  
  
Mal glowered to mask the grin tugging at his mouth, "Well, we gotta get this bird back in the air 'else we're dead in the water!"  
  
"Whatcha think 'm tryna do here, Cap'n?" Kaylee snapped, pulling herself upright and sparing Mal a single venomous glance before returning to her frantic repairs, "I told you we needed a new external control coupling three gorram weeks ago, but didya lissen?"  
  
"How's about we focus on what we _can_ do an' not so much on what we should oughta done?" Mal blustered, as the ship was rocked by several blasts from their pursuers - who may or may not have good reason to be tetchy.  
  
"Mal! You hangin' round here naggin' on me ain't gonna help me none!" the pretty mechanic growled, gesturing angrily with a heavy wrench, "How's about _you_ go an' have a word with Wash about landin' this boat a'fore she crashes?"  
  
Abandoning the argument, Mal spun on his heel and sprinted toward the cockpit. Hoban Washburne aka Wash, was welded into his customary seat, piloting the Firefly as skillfully as possible despite significant damage to one of his engines.  
  
"How we lookin' Wash?" Mal demanded, clutching the back of the pilot's seat as the floor wobbled below his feet again.  
  
"Not so good, Cap, barely keepin' 'er afloat," Wash was laser-focused as he replied, "Zoe and Jayne better take out that gunner or we're dead meat."  
  
"Well seein' if they do, there's still the small issue of our ship bein' on fire - we need to get landborne and get my girl repaired ASAP. Is there anyplace we can land where the Alliance ain't like to net us as soon as we land?"  
  
"....Only one, Cap'n."  
  
Mal heard the slight hesitation and his gut boiled with instant dread, "What's wrong with it?"  
  
"As far as I can tell... nothing, Cap. Its relatively peaceful, outside Alliance control and terraformed." Wash responded slowly.  
  
"Well what the guai are y'waiting for Wash? Put us down! What's this mystery planet called anyhow?"  
  
"Earth."


	2. Chapter 2

"Earth?" Mal's jaw dropped, "Earth's gone, Wash. Burned out, centuries ago."  
  
"That's what I thought, but look for y'self." Wash pointed at a monitor, a blue-green planet emblazoned next to several paragraphs of information.  
  
Mal skimmed the text skeptically then clapped a hand on his pilot's narrow shoulder, "Take us down then, whatever's on that rock can't be worse'n what's behind us."  
  
  
\-------------------------------  
  
  
Harry Dresden, Professional Wizard and, more recently, Winter Knight sighed dramatically as he threw down his busted flush, "Hell's Bells.. I fold."  
  
Thomas Raith, Harry's elder (yet annoyingly youthful) vampire half-brother smirked as he gathered up the crumpled pile of Burger King coupons, "Cheers, little brother. Here-" He rescued the most wrinkled paper of the bunch and tossed it at Harry, "Treat yourself to a small soda, on me."  
  
"Shut up, Toe-Moss." Harry grumbled, snatching up the coupon and tucking into his duster defiantly, "Where's a face-eating demon when you need one? The quiet life doesn't suit us."  
  
"Speak for yourself, Harry." Thomas yawned, "Justine and I are rather enjoying the quiet life. We don't _always_ need to be locked in a battle for our lives, why don't you take Murphy out for a drink?"  
  
Harry snorted, "We tried that, remember? She went back to Kincaid... and I can't really blame her."  
  
A frown marred Thomas's elegant brow, "How can that mercenary-demon warrior be a step up from my badass lil' brother? I saw the way she looked at you man, you didn't have to be a White Court vampire to sense the sexual tension between you two."  
  
"Whoa, hey, subject change please." Harry threw up his hands defensively, not quite stuffing his fingers in his ears and yelling _lalalalala_ but it was a near thing. And lucky too or he might have missed the abrupt roar of a massive _something_ hurtling over Demonreach. Harry and Thomas leapt to their feet, Harry snatching his trusty blasting rod as the misshapen lump of twisted, smoking metal crashed into the shallows of Harry's private oasis.  
  
"Hey! Get your junk off my beach!" Harry yelled down at the massive intruder. Strangely, the inanimate object did not immediately remove itself from its half-submerged position in the lake. Harry sighed, "Alright, now you're askin' for it."  
  
"Are you threatening that...thing?" Thomas asked, amused, "Wow, you really are bored."  
  
"Shut up."  
  
  
The mismatched siblings made their way cautiously down the path from Demonreach's core, but the crashed _whatever-it-was_ didn't show any signs of life. As they drew closer, Harry realized that it looked like a crude attempt at a space ship. Not a cool space ship, like the Millenium Falcon, more like something a drunk engineer would cook up. Maybe it had looked better before it was set on fire and crashed into a lake. Harry shucked off his heavy duster and waded into the chilly lake, clutching his staff. There was a muffled clunking and groaning coming from within the damaged vessel, and possibly what almost sounded like voices. Harry reached out with his staff and banged loudly on the metal siding - the noises from within stopped abruptly.  
  
Harry glanced back at Thomas, safe and dry on shore, then banged again, "Come on out, nice and slow and maybe I won't roast your asses."  
  
Silence.  
  
Then an unearthly screech of metal-on-metal and a large hatch began to grind open, lowering a long sloping ramp into the water. Harry backed up, raising his blasting rod threateningly at the cluster of dark silhouettes gathered in the opening. One figure stepped forward into the sunlight and Harry felt an immediate sense of kinship with the rakishly handsome stranger. _Wait, what?_ Must be the long coat. Shaking off the stray thought, Harry eyed up the firearm gripped in the other man's hand - it looked ancient. Like really ancient, museum ancient, even though the model of weapon couldn't be more than twenty years old. This whole thing was starting to feel like some sort of cosplay-stunt gone wrong.   
  
"We ain't lookin' for trouble, just had some engine troubles and had to make an unplanned landing." the leather-clad stranger held his weapon low, not aiming directly at Harry but poised for a fight, "If y'might point us to the nearest parts dealer, we'll be off this rock lickety-split."  
  
Harry stared. Who talked like _that?_ This wasn't just a southern twang, it was full-on old west. As the rest of the group edged into view, Harry noticed that they all seemed to be dressed in a mish-mash of western period clothing.  _Shit._    
  
"Look, if you guys are filming some sort of cheap western sci-fi then take it somewhere else, this is private property." Harry lowered his blasting rod, annoyance coloring his tone. The crew of the SS. Busted-Ass-Ship exchanged confused glances.  
  
A perky freckled girl stepped forward, "Beggin' your pardon, Mister, it weren't our intention to intrude - we'd be much obliged if you could tell us where to find some Firefly parts."  
  
The affected accent shouldn't sound so adorable, but something about the sweet smile and bubbly tone just worked for her. Harry scratched the back of his neck, shooting another helpless glance at his brother who was watching the scene with a graceful nonchalance that was frankly just irritating.  
  
"Method actors, I take it?" Harry finally tucked the blasting rod into his belt and gestured to the unexpected visitors, "Fine, I'll play along - why don't y'all come on over, y'hear?"  
  
Thomas snorted.  
  
The one Harry assumed was the leader scowled, aware he was being mocked, but at a nod his crew disembarked. Gasping at the frigid water, the oddly dressed group hurried ashore.  
  
Long Coat approached Harry, still eyeing the tall wizard suspiciously, "The name's Mal. Captain Malcolm Reynolds. And you are?"  
  
Harry accepted the offered handshake, "Harry Dresden, Professional Wizard." 


End file.
